Dangerous Liaisons
by allthingsdecent
Summary: Right around the time of Two Stories, a nurse schemes to seduce House.
1. Chapter 1

**Around the same time as Two Stories, a nurse tries to seduce House.  
This is my minor homage to play/film of the title, one of my personal favorites.  
Okay, it's not especially realistic. Best to think of it as a juicy/angsty soap opera.  
Sorry about the evil cliffhanger. (Not really!) Part 2 should be ready later today or tomorrow. -atd**

"God, they're so disgustingly cute together," Nurse Debbie said.

She was sitting in the cafeteria with two other nurses—Ally and Lindsay—watching House and Cuddy eat lunch a few tables away.

"How long has it been now?" Ally said.

"Almost eight months," Debbie said. "The wonders never cease."

"He's like a different guy around her," Ally said. "He almost seems . . .human."

"What about her?" Lindsay laughed. "It's like, who knew she was capable of smiling?"

"Oh, Dr. Cuddy's not that bad," Ally said.

"She's a bitch," Lindsay said. "She caught me smoking in the nurse's lounge and put me on probation."

"You deserved to be put on probation," Debbie snorted.

"Screw you," Lindsay chuckled.

"Just once, I'd like a guy to look at me the way he looks at her," Ally said, looking at them dreamily.

"He really does seem enchanted, doesn't he?" Debbie said. "He's, like, hanging on her every syllable."

"Give me a break. He's looking down her blouse," Lindsay said.

"You're just jealous," Debbie said.

"I am not," Lindsay said. "I'm just saying. He's a dude. He wants sex. Not meaningful conversation."

"You've always had a thing for Dr. House."

"Yeah, he's hella hot, but so what?" Lindsay said. "That's not the point. The point is: I could bang Dr. House—or any other doctor at this hospital—any time I wanted to, and you both know it."

It was true. Lindsay was what all men—boringly, predictably—wanted. Long golden hair, thin waist, big tits. She'd done a little bathing suit modeling before becoming a nurse.

"Not House," Ally said. "He's obviously a one-woman man."

"Oh please," Lindsay said, watching them. "He's a guy. With a penis. And you have to know she's a total ball-buster. I'm sure there are some times he'd just like a nice, uncomplicated fuck—no strings attached."

"Nuh uh," said Debbie, squinting at them. "He's loyal as a Saint Bernard."

"Care to put a little wager on that?" Lindsay said, grinning.

"What? That you can get House to cheat on Dr. Cuddy? That's not a very sportsmanlike bet."

"According to you, it's impossible anyway," Lindsay said. "Think of it as easy money."

Debbie tilted her head.

"How much?"

"1oo bucks say I can nail him some time in the next month," Lindsay said.

"Not funny, you guys," Ally said.

"Who's joking?" Lindsay said, with sly look.

"You're on," Debbie said, thrusting out her hand.

They shook.

"I seriously want no part of this bet," Ally said, getting up from the table. "You two are gross."

"Killjoy!" Lindsay yelled after her .

And she and Debbie both laughed.

####

"Hi Dr. House."

House was at the front desk, looking through some clinic patient files.

He looked up.

Nurse Lindsay was leaning over him, dressed in a skin tight nurse's uniform, with the top buttons suggestively undone.

His eyes bugged for a moment.

"Hello to you, Nurse. . ."

"Lindsay," she said, smiling flirtatiously.

"Love the uniform, Lindsay. Very Debbie Does Dialysis."

"My patients seem to like it," she said.

"I'm sure they do," he said. He found the file he was looking for, gave her a wink, and started to limp away.

"Dr. House, are you on clinic duty any time today?" she said, following him.

"Umm, right now," he said. "Hence my standing in the clinic and reading these clinicfiles."

"Because I need an appointment," she said.

"What's up?"

"I felt a . . . lump. . . in my breast," she said.

"Just one?" he said, idly. Then he stopped walking, looked at her.

"I'm not an oncologist," he said. "Get a mammogram."

"I just thought maybe you could. . .feel them? Let me know if everything feels good to you?"

She smiled.

He cocked his head, folded his arms.

"Oncology department that way," he said, pointing. "As you well know. As for Dr. James Wilson. He'll be glad to give you a thorough breast exam."

Lindsay pouted her bottom lip a bit.

"But I want you to do it," she said.

"You're adorable," he said, and headed into the exam room.

#####

"Rachel's pre-school called. She threw up," Cuddy said to House.

He was sitting behind his desk.

"Poor kid," he said, sympathetically.

"And . . . I need a favor."

"I'm over qualified," House said. "But I'd suggest Gatorade and Dramamine."

"The thing is, I can't pick her up," Cuddy said.

He frowned.

"Why not?"

"I have a donor meeting in half an hour so I was hoping that maybe you could. . .?"

He gaped at her.

"Oh no. Not me."

"Why not? Who else?"

"Your mother. Your sister. The nanny. _Taub_."

"But she's sick. I'd rather she was with you."

"I'm not good with sick kids. Or healthy ones either, come to think of it. Besides, it's probably just a virus. There's nothing I can do. And I'm the middle of a vexing case."

He turned to his team.

"What's wrong with our patient?" he bellowed.

"Beats us," Chase said back, with a shrug.

"See?" House said.

Cuddy folded her arms.

"That's why you have a team. So they can take over a case for you when you're gone."

"No, my team is here to help me do my job better. Emphasis on _my job_."

"You're really not going to help me here," Cuddy said, annoyed.

"I'm here for you when you need me. Right now, you don't need me. Let's save these favors for when it's really necessary."

"You're an ass," she said, and stormed out of the office.

House watched her stomp away.

"That went well," he said, under his breath.

#####

That night, he knocked on her door.

She opened it.

"How's the Mini Cuddy?" he asked.

"She has a fever, not that you care," she said.

"Aww, c'mon. Don't be like that," he said, starting to step inside. "Of course, I care."

She blocked his passageway.

He moved to the side, tried to pass her—and she blocked him again.

"I didn't know we were dancing," he said.

"We're not. Go home, House. I don't want to see you right now," she said.

He looked at her, stunned.

"Because I wouldn't pick Rachel up from day school today?"

"Because of that—and the fact that you never lift a hand around here. You throw your clothing on the floor. You never clean a dish. You put your feet on the coffee table. You act like you have a very expensive maid service."

"Oooh, maid service," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Now you've given me ideas."

"I'm serious, House."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I promise to help make the bed and clear the dishes and not drink directly from the milk carton, okay? Can I come in now?"

"No," she said.

"No?"

"No. Your selfishness has reached a tipping point for me. I needed you today. Rachel needed you today. And, as usual, you weren't there for us."

His mouth dropped open a bit.

"I'm sorry," he said, more sincerely this time. "I fucked up. I can do better."

"Can you?" she said. "Because I really wonder sometimes."

And she slammed the door in his face.

#####

"So how's Operation Seduce House going?" Debbie said teasingly.

She was sitting at a table at Sullivan's with Ally and Lindsay.

Lindsay shrugged.

"Rome wasn't seduced in a day," she said.

"In other words, shot down," Debbie said. "I have my eye on a new pair of shoes that hundred bucks is going to buy me."

"Just laying the groundwork, my friend," Lindsay said confidently. "If it wasn't a challenge, it wouldn't be any fun."

"He's not going to cheat on her," Ally said, taking a sip from her bottle of beer. "He's a man in love."

"You are such a hopeless romantic," Debbie said.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Ally countered.

Lindsay, who was scanning the bar for hot guys, suddenly burst into a huge grin.

"It would seem the seduction gods are smiling on me tonight," she said.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, check out who just bellied up to the bar."

And she gestured to the bar, where House had crumpled onto a stool and ordered a scotch.

"Wow, haven't seen him around here in a while," Ally said.

"And notice who he is NOT with," Lindsay said.

"Dr. Cuddy is way too classy for Sullivan's," Debbie giggled.

"Exactly," Lindsay said, standing up. "I'm going in."

"I really don't think that's a good. . ." Ally started.

But before she could finish her sentence, Lindsay was making her way to the bar.

"May I sit down?" she said, gesturing to the empty seat next to House.

"Do I have a choice?" he replied.

She laughed breezily, sat next to him.

"Did you, uh, get your little situation checked out?" House said.

"Turns out, there are no lumps. My breasts are firm and smooth," Lindsay said.

"Congratulations," he said, taking a chug. He turned away from her, not in the mood to talk.

"Where's Dr. Cuddy?" Lindsay said, ignoring his body language.

"She's home," House said grumpily.

"If you were my man, I'd never let you out of my sight," Lindsay said.

"They made a movie about that once," House said. "It was called _Misery_."

"I'm just saying, Dr. Cuddy shouldn't make you drink alone."

"We're not exclusively joined at the hip, you know," he said.

"The question is: Are other parts of your bodies exclusively joined?" Lindsay said.

He looked at her.

"Yes, as a matter of fact they are," he said. Then he furrowed his brow. "Why are you hitting on me all of a sudden? Did Dr. Cuddy give you a bad review or something? Getting your little nymphet revenge?"

Lindsay smiled, took a sip from his glass of scotch, which only annoyed him further.

"Nothing like that," she said. "I'm just curious."

"Okay, I'll bite," he said vaguely. "Curious about what?"

She leaned in, "Curious to know if the other parts of your anatomy are as big as your brain."

He scowled.

"Does this kind of dirty talk actually work on some guys?"

"Not some guys, Dr. House," she trilled. "_All_ guys."

"I'm not _all _guys," he said.

"I'm well aware of that," she said. "I love a challenge."

He stood up. (She was draped all over him to such an extent, he had to physically lift her off him and place her onto her own bar stool.)

"Good luck," he said.

Then as he left, he shouted to the bartender, "Drink's on her."

######

The next night, he showed up at Cuddy's door, this time with flowers.

"Do you forgive me?" he said, charmingly, thrusting them toward her.

Much to his surprise, she didn't take them.

"You think I want flowers?" she said.

"All women want flowers," he said.

"You still don't get it," she said.

"Get what?" he said, already exasperated.

"I don't want empty romantic gestures, I want you to give serious thought to our relationship."

"You're the one who has doubts," he said. "Not me."

"Because you act like we're still in college—just a couple of carefree kids hanging out and having sex together."

"What's wrong with that?"

"An adult relationship is all about commitment."

He folded his arms, stubbornly.

"I literally couldn't be more committed to you," he said.

"But I need to know that you'll be there through thick and thin," she said. "Not just when it's fun and easy."

"I'm sorry I didn't pick Rachel up from school, okay? I told you, I can do better," he said. "Give me a chance."

"No," she said. "I want you to go home and give this some real thought. Ask yourself, is this what I really want? Do I really want to help raise a 3-year-old girl? Do I really want to deal with her upset stomachs and her . . . school pageants and her class trips to the zoo and any of the other things that come with truly being a part of our lives."

"Where is this coming from all of a sudden? I love you. I love Rachel. What did I do that's so wrong?"

"The fact that you don't know just proves you still have some growing up to do, House," Cuddy said.

He stared at her, dumbly.

"So I really can't come in," he said.

"No, not tonight," she said.

"At least take the flowers," he said, shoving them at her.

"I don't want them," she said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

As she closed the door, she said, "And Rachel's fever has broken, not that you asked or cared."

#####

He was well into his fourth scotch at Sullivan's when he looked up and groaned.

"Drinking alone again?" Lindsay said, sidling up next to him.

"That was the idea," he slurred. "Until you came along and ruined everything."

"What's the matter," she said, sympathetically. "Dr. Cuddy being her typical bitchy self?"

"She's not very happy with me right now," he admitted glumly.

"She doesn't know how good she's got it," Lindsay said.

"I agree," he said.

She leaned toward him, boldly put a hand on his inner thigh.

"If you were my man, I'd let you know how much I appreciated you—every night," she whispered.

Her hand moved slowly from his thigh, toward his groan.

He side-eyed her, then chugged the last of his drink, slammed it on the bar.

"Fuck it," he said. "Let's get out of here."

She laughed, triumphantly.

"I thought you'd never ask."

######

To be continued. . .


	2. Chapter 2

"Like taking candy from a baby," Lindsay said, sliding into a chair next to Debbie and Ally in the cafeteria.

"No way!" Debbie practically screamed. "You and House?"

Lindsay shrugged in mock innocence.

"We hooked up last night," she said coyly.

"You bitch," Debbie said, with a laugh.

Ally squinted at her.

"I don't believe you," she said.

"Believe what you want," Lindsay said. "He was drunk, depressed. Easy prey. He took me home. Clothing was shed. Bodily fluids were exchanged."

"Do you think it's going to happen again?" Debbie asked.

"A girl can dream," Lindsay said. "But doubtful. He seemed _extremely_ freaked out about the whole thing."

"God damn it, I owe you a hundred bucks," Debbie said.

"Prove it," Ally said, looking Lindsay squarely in the eye.

"Yeah," Debbie said, egged on by Ally's skepticism. "How do we know you're not just making this all up?"

"I don't know how I can _prove_ anything. It's not like I had him sign a waver."

Then she looked up, saw House out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing sunglasses and an overcoat. He had just grabbed a burrito from the freezer case.

"Okay," she said to them. "Watch this."

She stood up and waved.

"Yo, Greg! Come here for sec! I want to tell you something!"

House looked up. His face went white and then he quickly turned and limped in the opposite direction.

Lindsay giggled.

"And there you have it," she said, triumphantly.

"Works for me," Debbie said with a dejected shrug.

"Shit," Ally said, watching House limp away. "I guess I was wrong about him."  
####

House, still holding the frozen burrito, slumped into a chair across from Wilson's desk.

"I fucked up," he said.

"You bought chicken instead of pork?"

House looked down.

"Not the burrito, you moron. I did something incredibly, unbelievably stupid. And I think I may've ruined everything."

Wilson frowned. He could tell by House's tone that he was dead serious.

"Ruined a case?"

"Ruined my life," House said.

Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, you officially have my undivided attention," he said.

House glanced nervously at the door, although it was shut.

"You know Nurse Lindsay?" he said cagily.

"Not biblically, sadly," Wilson said, with a half grin. "But yes. She's pretty hard to miss."

House put the burrito on the floor, much to Wilson's dismay (was he still going to eat it?) and then put his head in his hands.

"I went home with her last night," he said.

"You _WHAT_?"

"Cuddy kicked me out. I was bombed out of my skull. And Lindsay was . . . all over me. One thing proverbially led to another. . ."

Wilson's mouth dropped open.

"House, no. You didn't."

House looked up.

"Actually, I didn't. And thanks for the vote of confidence, pal. But I . . . _almost_ did. There was some kissing. Some, uh, groping. She got naked. Very quickly, I might add—it was like some sort of Olympic speed event. And then she went for my belt buckle and I realized that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life and I got out of there like a bat out of hell."

Wilson contemplated him, disappointed.

"Well, at least you didn't go through with it. You get _some_ credit for that."

"Something tells me Cuddy's not quite going to see it that way."

"She doesn't have to know," Wilson said, plainly.

House blinked at him.

"You're suggesting that I _lie?_"

"What's to be gained by telling her? Seriously, usually when someone cheats—"

"Not that _word._"

Wilson shrugged.

"Usually when someone _strays_ . . . they only tell their partner to clear their own guilty conscience. And since you don't have a conscience, you have nothing to worry about."

House shot him a "you're not helping" look.

"Look House. In a way, the best thing you can do is to suck it up, not tell her, and make sure it never happens again," Wilson said.

"Trust me, it's never going to happen again." House said. Then he looked down at his hands. "I love her, Wilson. You know that. She's the only girl for me."

"Then why the hell did you do it in the first place?'

House sighed.

"I don't know. She's been so angry with me lately. I feel like I can't do anything right. She's gotten it in her head that I don't care about her. Or Rachel. It's like she doesn't realize that she and Rachel are my world. . . So I guess I was feeling sorry for myself." He shook his head. "But. . .that's no excuse. What I did was inexcusable. And I've got to man up and tell her."

"But what do you have to gain by telling her?"

"Absolutely nothing," House said. "It's just that I made a promise I would never lie to her about personal things."

"Very noble of you," Wilson said. "Stupid, but noble."

House scratched at his scruff wearily.

"Take a good look at me, Wilson. This is it. Dead boyfriend walking."

"I don't envy you," Wilson said.

"Any words of advice before I go into the breach?"

"Yeah, don't eat that burrito. It's been sitting on the floor. It's gross."

#####

Cuddy's assistant, Anita, stood awkwardly in her office doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for her boss to acknowledge her.

"What's up, Anita?" Cuddy said, in that vaguely impatient way that made her so intimidating.

"Can I . . .talk to you?" Anita said.

"Shoot," Cuddy said, not looking up from her paperwork.

Anita closed the door behind her, which got Cuddy's attention.

"Is everything okay?" she said, finally putting down her work.

"It's just that I. . .heard a rumor and I thought you'd want to know about it."

"What kind of rumor?"

"Actually, it involves Dr. House."

Cuddy folded her arms. _Oh great._

"What about him?"

"There's a rumor that he. . .well, I don't quite know how to say this. . .that he slept with Nurse Lindsay last night."

Cuddy started to laugh, derisively.

"That's absurd. House would never cheat on me," she said. But even as she spoke, a kind of creeping dread washed over her—the last time she saw House she had slammed the door on him and his peace-offering of flowers.

"That's what I said. That girl is a liar. And a slut," Anita said. "But I thought you'd want to know."

"I do," Cuddy said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thanks for telling me."

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this kind of . . .thing," Anita said, diplomatically.

"You and me both."

Anita turned to leave and practically bumped right smack into House.

"Oh hey," Anita said guiltily.

"Hey," he replied guiltily.

After she left, he closed the door himself.

"I know you're still pissed at me," he said to Cuddy. "And you're about to be even more pissed."

She glared at him.

"So it's true?"

"What's true?" he said, his eyes widening.

"You fucked Nurse Lindsay."

"Jesus, how did you even know about that?"

"Oh my God," Cuddy said, clutching her stomach. "I feel sick. I actually feel physically ill."

He stepped toward her.

"Cuddy, nothing happened," he said. "I mean, not nothing. We, uh, kissed. And not much else."

"Not _much_?"

House sighed heavily.

"She took her clothing off. Maybe there was some light. . . petting. But that's as far as it went."

"Get out," Cuddy said.

"Shouldn't we. . . don't you think we should talk about this. . .?"

"Get the fuck out of my office, House," Cuddy said, her voice shaking. "And go to my home, put your shit in a Hefty bag, and don't ever come back."

House blinked.

"Cuddy, you're overreacting. I swear, nothing happened."

"I don't believe you. And even if I did, it doesn't matter. You betrayed me. You humiliated me. We're through."

"Cuddy, please. I'm begging you. . . ."

She gave him an icy stare.

"Get out before I call security."

He gave her a pathetic look—and left.

####

"Oh my God, look at him," Debbie said, gesturing toward House, who was sitting alone in the cafeteria, sadly picking at his food.

He had three days growth of beard. His clothes were dirty and even more disheveled than usual. He looked borderline homeless.

"That's your handiwork," Debbie said to Lindsay.

"That is really fucking depressing," Lindsay said, almost proudly. "Maybe I need to go comfort him."

Ally and Debbie glared at her.

"Geez, just kidding," she said defensively. "So I guess, uh, Dr. Cuddy found out?"

"Maybe because you've been bragging about your conquest to the entire hospital," Ally said.

"Not the _entire_ hospital," Lindsay said, with a smirk.

Debbie looked up.

"Uh oh. Danger at 3 o clock, girls. Danger at 3 o' clock. Shit's about to go down."

Indeed, Cuddy was standing in line to buy a take-out salad and House had just spotted her.

He got up from his table, limped toward her.

It had been three days since his confession and they hadn't talked since. In the interim, he had called her 45 times, knocked on her door 12 times, rang her doorbell 16 times, thrown pebbles at her window twice, and shouted her name loudly from the street so many times they had both lost count—all to no avail.

Now he pulled out his wallet.

"Let me get that," he said, when she got to the cash register.

Cuddy shook him off, paid for the salad herself, and started to walk away. He followed.

"So that's it?" he said. "You won't even let me buy you a salad?"

She kept walking, ignored him.

"So. . . what? You're never going to talk to me ever again?" he said, desperation creeping into his voice. "Is that the plan?"

Her walk got more brisk, knowing that he couldn't keep up.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he screamed, trying in vain to stay with her. "I'm _sorry!_"

Now the entire cafeteria stopped and watched them. It was officially a scene—and not just any scene: The hospital's beautiful head administrator and her famous diagnostician boyfriend—once the most cool and unattainable guy at the hospital, now officially a lovesick raving lunatic.

Luckily, it was Dr. Wilson to the rescue. He put a hand on House's shoulder and gently guided him back toward a table.

"Nothing to see here," Wilson said to the curious onlookers. "Go back to your lunch."

######

Cuddy went for a run after work. She was still reeling from the traumatic events of the past week. The brisk, cold air was just what she needed to clear her head.

A pair of footsteps strode alongside her.

"You've been avoiding me."

She turned to look.

"Since when do you jog, Wilson? And I haven't been avoiding you."

"Fitness is my life," he said, already huffing. "And I don't take it personally. I know that avoiding me is just an extension of avoiding House."

"And I have good reason to avoid House," Cuddy said, quickening her pace.

Wilson rolled his eyes a bit, but kept up.

"He made a mistake."

"Two plus two is five is a mistake. Cheating on me is more like a dealbreaker."

"First of all, he didn't cheat. Not technically. He didn't go through with it."

"He fed you that line too?" Cuddy snorted.

"He'd have no reason to lie to me," Wilson said.

"Except for the fact that he knew you'd come running to me—in this case, quite literally."

"He loves you."

"I don't doubt that," Cuddy said.

"He said, and I quote, 'Rachel and Cuddy are my world.'"

Just for a tiny second, she broke stride, then kept running.

"He should've thought of that before he betrayed us."

"Well, what about you?" Wilson said, stubbornly.

"What about _me_? I've never cheated on House. And trust me, I've had more opportunity than he'd care to know."

"I don't doubt that," Wilson said, eyeing her a bit (as far as smokin' bodies went, Nurse Lindsay had nothing on her). "But I'm not talking about cheating—which he technically didn't do by the way. I'm talking about kicking him out."

"So it's _my_ fault he cheated?"

"I'm not saying that," Wilson said. "I'm just saying that you're asking for a level of trust and commitment that you are apparently not willing to extend to him."

"I'm plenty committed," she said.

"Which you prove by kicking him out of the house whenever he displeases you."

"It's hardly the same thing!" Cuddy said.

Wilson was really huffing and puffing now, having a hard time keeping up. He decided to go with his final play.

"You've got to talk to him eventually. He's miserable."

"Yes, I was there for all his histrionics in the cafeteria today. Oscar-worthy stuff."

"And we both know what House does when he's miserable."

She looked at him. How dare he raise the specter of House going back on drugs at a time like this? A guilt ploy worthy of Arlene Cuddy.

"Then you better go check on him," she said, and sprinted off, leaving Wilson in the dust.

######

The next day, Anita was back in her office, this time with one of the young nurses in tow.

"Dr. Cuddy, you know Nurse Ally, right?"

"Of course," Cuddy said. "What can I do for you, Ally?"

When the nurses had a problem, there was a chain of command. They were supposed to go to the Director of Nurse Services. So this was highly unusual.

"She has something she wants to tell you."

And she practically pushed the poor girl toward her.

"It wasn't his fault!" Nurse Ally sputtered.

Cuddy gestured for the two of them to sit.

"What wasn't whose fault?" she said.

"Dr. House," Ally stammered. "What happened."

_You've got to be kidding me._

"Nurse Lindsay and another nurse had a bet. That she could. . . seduce him."

"Why on earth would anyone make such a disgusting bet?" Cuddy said, appalled.

"For fun. They were bored. Actually, we were sitting in the cafeteria talking about how in love with you he was and Lindsay bragged that she could get any man to stray."

"And apparently, she was right," Cuddy said dryly.

"I'm sorry. I know it's horrible. But she came on to him pretty strong. I thought maybe you could at least see that as—I don't know—extenuating circumstances?"

"It still doesn't change what he did," Cuddy said.

"There's something else," Anita said, looking at Ally. "Tell her."

"He didn't go through with it," Ally said, not able to make eye contact. "They didn't have sex."

Cuddy gulped a bit.

"How do you know that?"

"Because Lindsay told me. I mean, not at first. At first she kept boasting about being with him. But the language was vague. 'Hooking up,' 'taking him home,' that sort of thing. Finally, I asked her point blank if they had sex and she admitted they hadn't. Apparently, he said, 'What am I doing? I love my girlfriend' and hightailed it out of there. And that's the God's honest truth."

Cuddy didn't want to admit that she was relieved—but she was. Some betrayals were easier to forgive than others.

"I should have you all fired for what you did," Cuddy said. "This is a hospital, not a brothel."

"You're right, Dr. Cuddy," Ally said, her head still bowed. "I'm sorry."

"But let's just forget this whole incident ever occurred, shall we?" Cuddy said. "And I appreciate you coming forward with this, Ally. It took courage."

"Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

Anita stood up, indicating that Ally should follow. They started to leave the office.

"He really does love you, Dr. Cuddy," Ally blurted out. "I hope you give him a second chance."

"He's way past second chances," Cuddy muttered under her breath.

######

Cuddy had a restless night, weighing everything that Wilson and Ally had said to her.

The next day she decided to at least lift the embargo and go talk to him.

She made her way to his office.

His entire team was assembled—Foreman, Taub, Masters, and Chase—but he was not there.

"Where's House?" Cuddy said.

They were all surprised to see her. The whole hospital knew she and House were in the middle of World War III.

"He called in sick," Foreman said with a shrug.

"And you didn't go check on him?" she said.

"What, to bring him chicken soup?" Taub chuckled.

"It didn't occur to you that a known drug addict who is depressed might be at risk for a relapse?"

"House is a drug addict?" Masters said.

They all shot her a look.

"We're not House's keeper," Foreman said. "And besides, even if we were, he doesn't listen to us. He does what he wants."

"Thanks for you help," Cuddy said, shaking her head.

She went to Wilson's office.

"You have to go check on House," she said. "He called in sick."

"House never calls in sick," Wilson said.

"Exactly."

"You think he's. . ."

"Yes. And thanks for planting that idea in my head, by the way."

Wilson looked down at his appointment book.

"I can't go check on him, I'm booked solid," he said. This was a flat-out lie. He had two patient appointments, and a vague plan to look at new tire rims at lunchtime.

"And his team is afraid of him," Cuddy said.

"With good reason," Wilson said.

"So I guess that leaves me."

He smiled at her.

"I guess it does."

#####

She knocked on his door.

"Go away, Wilson. I already have a mother!" House yelled.

"House, it's me."

There was a crashing sound, as though things had fallen as he hastily got up.

"Cuddy," he said, opening the door, slightly out of breath.

"They said you called in sick," she said.

He immediately understood.

"You can take those air quotes out of your voice, Cuddy. I actually _am_ sick."

She inspected him. He was wearing a ratty bathrobe, his stubble had morphed into a full beard. His eyes looked a little watery. Sick? On drugs? He'd looked so horrible the last few days, it was hard to tell the difference.

"And you're not on drugs?" she said.

"I'm on lots of drugs," he said. "Robitussin, Tylenol."

"Not funny, House."

He peered at her.

"You're talking to me," he said gently.

"It would appear so."

"You care about me."

She sighed.

"It would appear so," she said.

"Why don't you come in? I'm drinking Grandma House's medicinal tea. Guaranteed to unclog your sinuses. It doubles as liquid drain cleaner."

She smiled.

"Tempting," she said.

"Or maybe a glass of water?" he said.

"That would probably be better," she said.

She stepped inside.

He got her the water, then cocked his head toward the couch.

"Can we. . .?"

"Sure," she said.

She sat down next to him.

He wrapped himself in a blanket, looked at her with those puppy dog eyes.

"Do you have a fever?" she said, reflexively touching his forehead.

His eyes followed her hand gratefully.

"My cold is nothing. It's my heart that's sick," he said. "I want to come home."

"I know you do, House."

"I'm sorry, Cuddy. What I did was completely unforgivable. But I'm still asking you to forgive me."

"I'm working on it," she said, with a tiny smile.

He exhaled a bit.

"Look," she said. "While we're on the subject, I want to . . . apologize, too."

"But you didn't do anything wrong."

"Of course I did. I can't just kick you out whenever I'm mad at you. I'm asking you for a kind of commitment that I'm apparently not willing to offer myself."

"I _am_ committed to you. And Rachel," he said.

"I know you are, House," she said. "So new rule: No more slamming doors in your face. Unless I have an unsightly facial blemish. Or just farted or something."

He laughed.

"I'm sure your farts smell like petunias," he said. "And you couldn't be unsightly if you tried."

"You're good," she said, with a chuckle.

"So can I come home now?"

She hesitated.

"Okay. Pack up your Hefty bag, hobo, and let's get out of here."

"I never unpacked it," he said. He gestured to where the stuffed bag sat, sagging a bit in the corner.

"That is the saddest Hefty bag I've ever seen," Cuddy said.

"Filled with gym socks . . . and tears."

"God, I've missed you," she admitted.

"God, I've missed you too," he said.

She went to kiss him, but he pulled back.

"I don't want you to catch my cold," he said.

"It's okay," she said, leaning forward, placing a gentle kiss on his mouth. "You're actually worth it."

####

On Sunday morning, Cuddy awoke feeling unusually rested.

She stretched.

House came into the bedroom, wearing her apron and carrying a tray.

"Mornin' Rip Van Cuddy," he said.

"What time is it?"

"11 o clock," House said.

She bolted upright.

"Shit! Rachel has her playdate at the Brewsters!"

"I dropped her off an hour ago," House said.

"But. . .you don't have a child seat in your car!" Cuddy said, panicking.

"Actually," House said. "I do. I had one installed a few days ago."

"You're kidding."

"It's a very cool child seat, though," he said quickly. "It's, like, the Harley Davidson of child seats."

She smiled. "A few days ago" meant he had installed the thing when they were broken up. A meaningful gesture that he could only _hope_ she'd find out about.

"And whatchya got there?" she said, eyeing the tray.

"Grand Marnier French Toast, fresh fruit, and espresso," he said, placing it in front of her.

"Wow, you really pulled out all the stops, huh?" she said.

"Consider me your official Slave Boy until further notice," he said, climbing into bed next to her. "I have a lot to make up for."

She took a bite.

"Ohmygod, House, this is delicious."

He smiled.

"Now that I know you can cook like this, you're totally screwed," she said.

"A small price to pay," he said.

She put some on a fork, gave him a bite.

"I love you, you know that?" he said, chewing.

"Yeah," Cuddy said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I kind of do."

She took the tray, put it on the floor.

"Take off your pants, slave boy."

"Shouldn't you be taking off _your_ pants? I am your slave, after all."

"I've missed your . . .assets," she said. "Drop 'em."

"With pleasure," he said, wriggling out of his pajama bottoms. "But be gentle with me. My _Property of Lisa Cuddy _tattoo is still a little sore."

EPILOGUE

"It would seem order has been restored in the universe," Debbie said, watching House and Cuddy waiting in line at the cafeteria.

"Aww, look at him, he's buying her lunch," Ally said.

"I've never seen him pay for his own lunch, let alone someone else's," Lindsay said.

"And he's carrying her tray—which is probably an accident waiting to happen, but still. So sweet," Debbie said.

They watched as House and Cuddy settled into a corner booth.

"Looks like Operation Seduce House has a happy ending, for all parties involved," Debbie said to Lindsay. "Especially me, since you were forced to forfeit my 100 bucks."

"I still think I earned that money," Lindsay groused.

"I still can't get over how he looks at her," Ally said with a sigh, watching them.

"I'm telling you, he's staring at her tits!" Lindsay laughed.

"He's staring into her eyes and you know it," Ally said.

"Yeah," Lindsay said with a slightly defeated smile. "He is."

THE END


End file.
